


Catch Me If You Can

by ifellonblackdays



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 04:47:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4652883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifellonblackdays/pseuds/ifellonblackdays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Khajiit finds herself, broken and scarred, left to die on the barren wasteland of Solsteim. It is now her duty-her MISSION- to find the betrayer and dispose of him. But where does she begin?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crippled but still standing

"...Well shit."

Her words were uttered through a clenched jaw. After regaining consciousness the first thing that came to mind were those exact words. Secondly it was the pain that covered her right side, a burning sensation that she hadn't felt before- aside from that time a dragon attacked Helgen, but that was another story.

Of course, these words were very unladylike, but who cared? She certainly didn't. And anyway, there was no one around from what she could hear, smell and see, although her cat eyes were a bit blurred from the blood that had dried over her furry forehead and eyelids. That was the third thing. Blood, an open wound, healing itself naturally and now she knew about it, she wondered what had caused it.

Wait a second, screw that, how in Oblivion did she get here?

Before she could think about it, her fluffy ears pricked upwards at a noise from above. She was forced to dive sideways from her sore and slumped position, as an insecure rock fell from its place at the roof of the cave. It raised dust as it crushed everything underneath it, and what would have been a Khajiit if she hadn't noticed it.

She looked down at her unclothed body after once again relaxing gingerly from the pain. It looked okay from a quick glance, but she soon saw her right forearm had been bent a little too far, and had apparently given up on keeping its structure. Luckily it hadn't pierced through her fur, but she knew it would take a few weeks to heal, so she wouldn't be using it anytime soon. According to her mother, her right arm was the one that was used to pull the braid of the training school's brat, little Amelia Crux. She had never liked that Nord, but she was satisfied with the pounding she gave her pretty little face after Crux had claimed a Khajiit could never fight or be a warrior as brave or as strong as a Nord. A scratch to the cheek, a pull of the hair and a punch to the stomach to shut her up never hurt anyone. Well, it hurt Amelia, but the little kitten felt like she was doing everyone a favour, because secretly she knew nobody liked that girl; too big-headed for her own good.

That reminded her. Weapons.

Looking around franticly she couldn't see any sign of her dagger and swords. She almost felt as insecure as that rock when she was armless. And now, she was almost literally, armless.

Her weapons were her treasures, since she had wielded them from the age of a young kitten going into adulthood. She had always kept them close since the day she got them; a small dagger tucked into her right boot, a sword at her waist and a longer sword on her back, attached by leather straps. She usually wore Daedric boots and gauntlets, with a tight dress made of leather and chains. An amulet of Talos adorned her neck as per usual, given to her at birth, blessing her with luck and power unmatchable by the strongest warriors of Skyrim. Unfortunately, they had gone, she knew not where.

Oh, the irony, she thought to herself. What's the use in bloody having a lucky amulet when it's not there when you need it most?

Lucky or not, she would have to do without.

She took a minute to build up enough strength to, with only one functional arm, lift her useless body off the rocky ground. She stood, swaying for a second, dealing with the change as blood rushed to her head, but soon held her chin high and pushed out her chest, regaining her pride. She may have looked confident, but in reality, she had no idea what had happened after she was knocked out. The bastard who captured her could have done anything...

Newly determined to get her priorities straight, she slowly walked around the dark cavern in search of her clothes, or at least her dagger. Still there was no sign of anything important to her- asides from a new enemy.

What's the phrase when you find something you weren't looking for? Is there one? It didn't matter, because she now had a new problem on her hands.

A shiny blade, somewhat familiar to her, shone mockingly in front of her whiskers. Another pressed tightly against her neck, ready to kill at an instant.

She sighed mentally.

Here we go again.


	2. Back on my feet

She hissed as she saw in the dim light that the sword bearer was a bandit, probably a mercenary, she thought, hired to keep an eye on her while she was unconscious. Or he may have just been in this particular cave at this particular moment. Unfortunately for him, he was. Unfortunately for the Khajiit, dispatching of him took a bit longer than she wanted, especially since her weapons were practically in front of her. The bandit had taken them from her while she was unaware. And her clothes.

She stared deep into his light eyes, studying him...studying how she would kill him.

Slit his throat? No, that would require her to disarm him first. She had no idea how experienced this guy was. If he was quick enough to know what she was intending to do, he may react. She wanted to get her weapons back, of course, but she would have to kill him first to retrieve them.

She went back to studying him. He had light blond hair, blue eyes...obviously a Nord. But this little kitten didn't like Nords.

She spoke first: "Are you just going to stand here all day or are you going to kill me?" Her tone taunting him. She decided angering him may make him attack un-carefully and give her an opportunity to strike the finishing blow. But instead, he kept his cool.

"Silence, cat. If you want to keep that funny tongue of yours you'd be wise to spare me your sarcastic comments."

Oh, so this is how you're going to play it. Good, show me your true colours. It will make killing you more amusing.

She sighed dramatically, making herself seem scared. Although she was now completely the opposite. While she was unconscious-she knew not how long-she had missed out on a good killing. She was blood thirsty since the day she knew how to swing a sword.

"O-Okay," she pretended. "B-But please, don't hurt me!" She was a good actress when the situation demanded it. And it seemed to be working.

"Heheh. Wait until the Boss sees you. He's going to pay good money for you, my pretty little kitten..." His eyes broke the everlasting death stare and trailed downwards, and for the first time, he studied her. She had to hold back from ripping his dirty eyes out of their sockets for just a bit longer...

After he was done with his filthy thoughts, he lowered the sword. Her sword. The fact he also had her sword made her want to kill him more. The urge to lash out was building stronger.

"Come," he finally said. "The Boss wants to speak to you."

He sheathed her sword, pulled out a lantern and lead her down a tunnel just outside of the area she woke up in. Torches lit the way, and odd gold pieces were strewn on the ground. Obviously she was in a bandit's cave.

She was lead into a larger cave with a bridge in the middle of it, leading up to a higher level of rocks. That must have been where the "Boss" was. Looking around, she noticed that a small waterfall was at the back of the cave, giving off the sound of water crashing against rocks that filled the stone halls. She could only see three torches in the whole room, but she didn't exactly need a bright light to see well: she was a cat, for Talos' sake.

Her feet, bare and bleeding, were the only thing between her and a dusty floor, now stepping onto the old floorboards of the bridge. She walked at the same pace as the Nord, not exactly wanting to keep up, but even though she was confident she could kill him, she didn't want to bet on it too much, seeing as he had armour and her weapons. Of course, she was a trained killer, a professional, but she couldn't just throw away her life that easily. A professional knows when they should and shouldn't fight.

The Boss's room, lit dimly, had a desk in the middle of it, where he sat. He was looking down at a piece of paper on the oak table, not at his visitors.

Pfft, yeah, because why would he give me the pleasure of seeing his beautiful eyes?

She herself was a sarcastic bastard sometimes, and even though she voiced her thoughts and opinions on you truthfully, she had the right mind not to let her tongue slip. Even though sometimes it seemed she was careless and big-mouthed, she was wise.

She looked at the Boss, his short dark hair reflecting what little light illuminated the room. The walls were made of board, and at the back she could see a table made from lesser wood, birch perhaps. She took note of a grand chest and a small knapsack sitting on the table.

Maybe where my belongings are kept... She thought. She made it another side mission to retrieve what ever was in that chest before she left this dank place, whether the contents were hers or not-who said an assassin couldn't be a thief?

The Boss was a bandit chief, she could tell, just by looking at the clothes he was wearing. Compared to the Nord, he was a king. This Redguard had a steel plate helmet hooked under his arm and a war hammer lying next to him. Steel boots covered his feet, and on his hands, leather gloves. Next to the war hammer was a shiv and a coin purse, which almost invited the Khajiit to take them. If she needed a quick escape-if this went badly, of course she wouldn't be leaving without her stuff- she would grab them and run. It was better than nothing.

Finally, the Boss spoke.

"What reason do you have to disturb me, Garret?" His words were like stone being scratched against steel, serious, and had a certain ring to it.

"The cat," he replied, as if she wasn't there to hear. "She's alive."

At this point the Chief looked up from what looked like a scroll. She decided that if she made it out alive, she would also be taking that, just for good measure.

His dark eyes glanced over at the cat, realising she had nothing but her fur to protect her from the world, and unwanted attention. He at least had the decency to offer her some rags to cover up. This act of kindness made her urge to slaughter everyone in the room just that little bit softer.

After donning the rags, it was now her turn to speak: "Yes, I am alive. And I would appreciate a full explanation as to why I am here."

The Nord laughed, but after the Boss sternly bore his piercing eyes into his skull, he quickly decided to shut the hell up.

Thank Talos, she thought, now that little twat won't be saying much more soon.

"Well, my dear," the Chief said finally after scaring the Nord to a pale colour. "I believe you should be entitled to know, since you have been kind enough as to not kill my servant. Of course, I know that you could have easily done it, since you are an assassin." The word rolled off of his tongue like a snake's.

How in Oblivion did he know?!


End file.
